


Supercollide

by sorryabouttheangst



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ben Solo Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Conflicted Ben Solo, Dark Rey, Devoted Reylo, Empress Rey, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Grey Jedi Rey, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Ben Solo, Manipulation, Rey has A Lot of issues with how the republic does things, Rey is older in this than in canon, Soft Ben Solo, The Rey/Hux is explained in the notes at the beginning of the fic, endgame Rey/Ben Solo, even though I hated it in tros, mentions of torture, more tags to be added when i think of them, rey is a palpatine, tagging that just to be safe, the notes have more details, this is most definitely not a slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22934071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorryabouttheangst/pseuds/sorryabouttheangst
Summary: The room is small, warm, dark except for the window that looks out into the expanse of space. The faint light of some distant system’s sun makes the pedestal shimmer and glow, but the helmet atop it remains untouched.She walks to it, kneels before the pedestal, tries to reach out into the force for a ghost, a memory, a guide. Some days the old sith will walk with her in her dreams, on even rarer ones a Jedi will appear.With no Master, even she finds herself lost sometimes.Darth Vader is the most frequent visitor, the chosen one who fell to the dark because of her own grandfather, but who came back to save his child and betray his Master. Light and dark, she trusts that if anyone can give her the answers she seeks, he can.After all, his son must be the Jedi’s master.“My lord,” She begins, voice clear and loud as if he’ll hear her any better that way even though she knows he’d hear even a whisper, “If you can, show me the man who I fought in the forest, tell me his name.”. . .In which Empress Rey meets the Jedi Knight, Ben Solo, in the middle of two wars, and somehow, maybe by the will of the force, finds what she’s been looking for all along.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Rey (Star Wars), Armitage Hux/Rey, Finn & Poe Dameron, Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron & Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 56
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things to address before we start this fic:
> 
> First, the manipulation tag. Dark/Empress Rey in this fic gives gifts and affection to mainly (but not only) Hux to keep him close and loyal. She reads his mind at several points in the fic as well. He is aware of her goals and tactics, and this awareness is discussed several times throughout the fic. 
> 
> Second, the Rey/Hux tag. There is no romantic relationship between the characters, but they do have dinner together and kiss several times (there will be no cheating in this fic). All of this is because of the first point and is discussed in the fic. There is a moment in chapter one where it could be implied that there is one-sided love there, but that is not the case and will be discussed later on. The main ship will be Rey/Ben, and their relationship will be healthy.
> 
> And lastly, Rey is older in this fic than in canon. In this she is 25-26 years old. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and please let me know what you think in the comments!

“He’ll never let you rise to your true potential, you know that.”

Armitage Hux is no fool, but he  _ is _ an opportunist. 

“I trust that the Supreme Leader will make the right decisions for the First Order,” He says mechanically, and she smirks, knowing he doesn't believe a word of what he's saying.

Kira rises from her seat, rounds the table, lets her hand ghost over his shoulder. He can  _ feel _ the power rolling off her, nearly drowning him in it. It’s heavy, almost suffocating, and everything in him wants to bow his head in an attempt to move the weight off of the air on top of it. She sits down on the edge of the table next to him, her hand delicately laid next to his nearly empty plate, and he forces himself to meet her eyes.

She steals a piece off his dinner roll, popping it in her mouth, and takes a sip of his water; leaving soft pink lipstick smudges on the glass.

“You know I can give you anything, if you stand by me.” Her dark eyes pierce his soul, and he flinches when he feels her brush over his mind; not deep enough to see anything but enough to make sure he knows she’s there, “The respect you deserve, the position you should have had long ago.”

She smiles at him, almost adoringly, but he knows better. 

“Admiral Hux has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”

Snoke commands and controls with pain and suffering and humiliation. Loyalty through fear, effective, but Hux knows enough history to know that it won’t last forever.

Kira Ren gets loyalty from something far more effective, far more sinister. Sweet smiles and sweeter wine, promises, warm praise, dark lipstick and private dinners. She’s still an enforcer, yes, and no one forgets the way that she cuts down her enemies with a steady hand, but when it comes to choosing the lesser evil, it will always be her. 

“It does.”

“I knew you’d think so. You’ll have that, and so much more,” She takes his hand in her own, leaning closer to him till they're breathing the same air, “If when the time comes, you swear your allegiance to me. Can you promise me that,  _ Admiral? _ ”

“You’ll have it,  _ Supreme Leader.”  _

Her smile turns sharp, eyes sparkling, “ _ Empress,  _ Admiral.”

“My apologies, my Empress.”

She leans in and kisses him, as if to seal the deal, and then she’s gone, taking the rest of his dinner roll with her. 

. . .

The next day, she appears on the bridge with new pins for his uniform coat. 

Snoke’s body is found in the throne room an hour later, surrounded by the bodies of the Knights of Ren.

“The Supreme Leader is dead,” He says to the crew, her at his side, “Long live the Empress.”

Before the day is over, nothing of Snoke remains except for his memory and a handful of old policies. Her name is different,  _ Empress Rey, _ with no family name at the end, and when they are alone, a celebratory dinner this time, he asks why.

“I am no one from nowhere, Admiral, who went to bed hungry for many years,” She takes her time picking from the fruit arrangement on the table, “And yet, despite that, I have become an Empress. No family name deserves the honor or the credit of  _ my  _ achievement, not even the one that the Knights of Ren held before their deaths.”

The fruit floats between her hands, being unpeeled by invisible hands, and when the rind falls to the floor, she splits the fruit in two and offers him half. 

“I have many plans for the galaxy, Admiral, I’m thankful that such a capable leader as yourself is at my side.”

Flattery only works on fools, he knows this, and it shouldn't work on him. But he allows it to, or at least to appear that it does.

Armitage Hux is not a fool, he is an opportunist, and he’s not beneath playing nice to get what he wants. 

He takes the fruit, and they eat in silence for a long time, till she retrieves a datapad from the side table. 

“I have something I need you to work on.” She hands him the datapad, “As long as it’s done quickly and quietly, there will be no limit to your funding.”

He looks over the plans, raising an eyebrow, “A planet killer?”

Rey nods.

“The target?” 

“Nothing heavily populated, it wouldn't look good. It’s for a...” She pauses, “ _ Special  _ project.”

“It will be done, my Empress.”

When dinner is over, she sits on the edge of his chair and kisses him again; her hand cradling his cheek almost tenderly. Another brush over his mind,  _ gentle,  _ staying on the surface to where she can feel the wisps of emotion and no farther. 

“I knew I could trust you with something this special, Admiral.”

She sweeps out of the room then, red robes flying behind her, the braided bun on the back of her head adorned with precious jewels that sparkle in the light. 

Hux knows better than to think that he’s anything special to her. The kisses, the dinners, everything is simply another move to keep him close and in line; just like Snoke’s taunts and humiliation were. 

Her actions aren't personal, aren't based off of emotion, but he’s been starved of praise and attention for so long that he craves it.

He’s not a fool, no, he’s an oppourtunist with a leader who is willing to give him a galaxy’s worth of attention and maybe even the galaxy itself for his loyalty.

. . .

There’s an accident, an explosion in the weapons department, and all of a sudden the ship is consumed with red lights and deafening alarms.

He’s standing outside the half-destroyed door into the department, watching restlessly as a crew tries to secure a pathway to the wounded and the still raging fire beyond it, when she arrives.

She runs down the hallway to them at full speed, screaming  _ make way _ at a handful of stormtroopers in her path, and slows to a stop at his side. His hand falls to her lower back without a thought.

“How many are inside?”

“At least twenty dead, life support shows another thirty trapped by fire and rubble. Fire suppression is out. Medical team should be here within a minute.”

She closes her eyes, reaching out into the Force for a long moment, and they open again, set with resolve.

“There’s not enough time to clear a path, stand aside.”

The rescue team moves quickly out of her way, and she takes a deep, grounding breath before she stretches out her hands to the rubble. It shudders and groans angrily, but moves at her will, floating up to the ceiling and staying there. 

“Go!” Hux yells to the teams standing around, and they do. 

She stands there, tense and focused, for nearly fifteen minutes as they move the wounded and the bodies alike, clearing everyone and rushing them out of the hall. She sighs wearily, letting the warped metal fall, and her hands tremble. 

“FN-2187,” She calls out, stepping away from Hux’s hand on her back, not even having to look at the printed number on the suit to know it is him, “Walk me to my quarters.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She takes his arm, and Hux catches the way she hides away her exhaustion to give the stormtrooper one of those sweet smiles. The one that makes you feel like you're the only one in the world.

Jealousy creeps up in his chest for a split second, and then he crushes it down; watching them round the corner.

He got too comfortable, too close, and she put him back in his place.

A lesson, a softer one, less humiliating than anything Snoke would have done, but a lesson nonetheless.

. . .

The first year of her reign comes to an end with thunderous applause and the end of their campaign in the Mid Rim. 

A blaster bolt nearly hits her in the head, but she stops it with the movement of her hand, sending it harmlessly to the ground. Hux pulls her down behind the podium as the chaos grows and Stormtroopers fan out into the crowd. 

The assassin is dragged before her, onto the stage, forced to the ground by the guards, a rifle against his head.

“Don’t,” She says, looking at the rifle, “Not unless he runs. Bring him to the ship.”

They pull him to his feet, and she reaches out, patting his cheek with a sick smile, “If he’s with the Resistance, what’s behind this pretty face might be of some use, don't you think, Admiral?”

“I do.” He gestures to the guards, “Cuff him and take him to the shuttle.”

FN-2187 nods and takes the prisoner away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title inspired by the song Supercollide by BANNERS.
> 
> (If you see any grammar mistakes/errors or have any suggestions for the tags please let me know! Thank you)


	2. Chapter 2

“I wasn’t aware we had the best pilot in the Resistance onboard.”

He was expecting interrogation, torture, maybe even a lack of food and water.

But instead she has him over for dinner, sitting at the head of the table and letting him sit at her right hand, knives and forks within reach of his unbound hands.

Rey takes food out of the bowls once he arrives, filling her plate, and she takes a bit of each, as if to prove to him it isn't poisoned. She’s wearing a soft, Nabooian silk robe, forest green; a stark contrast to the black and white color scheme of the ship. It makes her look younger, softer, maybe even less deadly if he didn't know her crimes in such detail.

“What’s your name?” She asks, and before he can answer there’s a brush over his mind. Not painful, no, just barely over the surface of his awareness, but deep enough to catch the involuntary thought of his own name.

_ “Don’t do that.”  _ He snaps, and she smiles at him.

She takes another bite of food, “Why don’t you eat, Poe?”

“What’s the point?”

“Depends on the availability of it, to eat for survival or for pleasure-“

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Why am I here?”

The sweet, pleasant expression drops off her face then, and she sighs before laying down her silverware and turning to him.

“You should count yourself lucky, Poe. If the Supreme Leader was still living he’d have already ordered me to tear apart your mind and take what we need by force.” 

She rises from the chair, adjusting the robe, the diadem atop her dark hair sparkling in the light as she moves. She steps closer to him, into his space, and lays a hand on his arm.

“I’m not like the Supreme Leader. This is your chance, Poe. Finish dinner, tell me what you know, and I’ll let you walk away. We have your ship in the hanger, I’d be happy to even send medical supplies and food for the others with you. Tell them you escaped, stole from us.”

Her lips brush his ear, “ _ You’ll be a hero. _ They might even promote you for this, for the work you're doing.”

“No.”

The Empress pulls away from his ear, slowly, “No?”

“I won’t tell you.”

She sighs, her face contorting with barely-concealed anger. She rises, grabs him by the chin, and pulls him to his feet by it.

“Remember my offer, Poe.” She snarls as the door behind them slides open and two Stormtroopers enters, “Remember how you denied my gifts. Take him away. _ ” _

He’s gone within moments, and something tells her that he won’t talk, even through the torture.

A decent human would go and rip through his mind now, find what they need before the bloody, horrific torture began.

But the Empress never claimed to be decent.

. . .

“It’s almost done. Maybe another seven months at most, I’m bringing in more people to hopefully get it done even sooner. ”

Rey smiles,  _ actually  _ smiles, when he hands her the progress report, sitting down in the matching forest green chair across from her in her quarters.

“It’s beautiful, Armitage.” 

She sounds pleased, and the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks go pink.

“When they speak of the day that changed the galaxy forever,” She looks him in the eye, “They’ll speak your name, Admiral.”

She brushes over his mind, deeper than normal, and he realizes that he doesn't flinch at it anymore. He  _ should _ , he knows that.

When he leaves, he’s not thinking about that anymore, mind foggy and sweet with the vision she sent him. A vision of the empire he would win for her, the empire that would remember him forever. 

. . .

It’s been hours, and just as she thought, he hasn't told them what they wanted to know.

Rey finds him again, bloodied and bruised, and takes a seat on the chair in the corner.

“Is it worth it?” She asks, and he scowls.

“Yes.”

She’s changed out of the robe, taken the diadem out of her hair. Her dark hair is twisted into a tight bun at the base of her skull, black robes hanging from her shoulders. All sharp edges and darkness, her youthful appearance traded in for one more intimidating and powerful. Her lightsaber hisses to life in her hand as she rises from the chair, the dual blades red and humming.

She twirls it in her hand, lets the red blur through the air, and walks around him in a slow circle.

“This is your last chance, Poe. Tell me  _ everything _ , or I’ll take it by force.”

She stops in front of him, and he  _ spits _ at her. 

“Come and get it, Princess.”

Rey reaches into his mind without a second thought, and his entire body tenses. She’s not nearly as cruel as Snoke used to be with her, searching her mind for any trace of rebellion, compassion,  _ light _ . She’s efficient, pushing aside childhood memories and focusing specifically on the Resistance.

“What’s this?” She asks, both aloud and in his mind, “The Resistance is on D’Qar?”

She pauses, looking over at him with an impressed look, “What a lovely gift, thank you, Poe.”

“You won’t win.” He gasps, “The Force is with us.”

“Last I checked,” Invisible hands wrap around his throat and he gasps for breath, “It was with me as well.”

She taps at her communicator, releasing her grip on his throat after a long moment, “Set a course for D’Qar, it’s time we arrest the rebels and restore order to the galaxy.”

Poe snarls, straining against the restraints, and she just smiles at him. 

Rey turns on her heel, black robes snapping through the air, and leaves the room without another word. 

. . .

“FN-2187 has helped the prisoner escape and has stolen a ship.”

Rey’s jaw clenches, the old, familiar roar of  _ anger, rage, hate _ threatening to consume her. She feels stronger after the wave of it, holding onto control but feeling the benefits of the darkness around her.

She’d sensed greatness in that Stormtrooper before, the still sleeping embers of the force within him, and she’d given him extra attention because of it; knowing that one day it would pay off and he’d readily become her apprentice once he’d awoken.

She could barely believe that _ Poe Dameron  _ of all people had managed to convince FN-2187 to leave her side.

She reaches out into the Force, searching for the embers, for the signature that was sleeping but  _ strong _ in the young man. 

_ FN-2187 _

She feels him stiffen in surprise, and smiles, letting her voice become softer and sweeter.

_ I know he didn’t put a gun to your head, my friend,  _ she whispers,  _ It’s okay. Just come back now and I’ll forget. The Resistance will never let you become who you're meant to be, only me.  _

_ You kill people. _ He replies, voice steady, convicted in his belief. 

_ And the Resistance doesn’t? _

Silence, she smiles, reaching out even more with feelings of forgiveness and care.

_ Come back, 2187, come home. _

She feels his hands as her own, trembling slightly, and then they steady for a split second before he throws her out of his head. 

The sheer power and force of it makes her stumble, hands reaching out to call on the Force to steady her, to keep her from falling. 

“Prepare for battle, stun-blasters. I want prisoners. _ ” _

Her hands clench as anger curls up in her chest to stay.

“When you find him, bring 2187 to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more week until  
> Ben shows up! New chapter up next Tuesday.
> 
> I’d love to know what you thought of the chapter! Thanks for reading ❤️
> 
> (If you see any grammar mistakes/errors or have any suggestions for the tags please let me know! Thank you)


	3. Chapter 3

_ “You seem troubled.” _

_ When he takes off the mask upon his arrival at her quarters, she catches sight of bloodshot eyes, still shiny with tears.  _

_ “What’s wrong, Eight-Seven?” She asks, gesturing for him to sit down in the opposite chair, “Did something happen on the mission?” _

_ “Slip’s dead. Shot.” His hands tremble, and he opens his mouth to speak again but decides against it. _

Rey had felt it on the surface of his mind then, the grief, the compassion, the  _ anger,  _ and she had known that Hux would want him sent to reconditioning. An emotional soldier was not a predictable soldier.

She should have sent him to reconditioning, but she didn't. 

She’d hoped that his anger would build, pulling him closer to the dark as his power slowly woke within him, but instead he had become exactly what the Order didn't want from its soldiers.

Unpredictable. 

A  _ traitor _ .

The durasteel walls split, red-hot metal glowing in the wake of her lightsaber. 

2187’s betrayal stung far more than she had anticipated, but it only fueled her power. Whatever Poe Dameron said must have been incredibly convincing, Rey knew from her many times on the surface of 2187’s mind that he was loyal. 

Reluctant to kill, yes, but still loyal.

Where Hux preferred attention and Phasma preferred a lovely raise and vacation every year to keep her loyal, Rey had sensed that 2187’s loyalty would be bought through action. She’d started paying the stormtroopers salaries, despite Hux’s many arguments against it, and had even begun drafting new laws to give them the opportunity to leave the Order.

She’d told him all of this, of course, during their weekly meetings. 

She always carved out time each week for him, sometimes a training session, sometimes a breakfast, sometimes even asking him to accompany her on a trip to another planet. She’d even begun teaching him meditation, as any good teacher would. 

Rey had wanted him as her apprentice, someone who she could trust to carry on her empire after she was gone. Or at the very least, to assist her in training and raising the next generation of Force Users.

But all that was gone now, thrown away carelessly in the name of the Resistance and their ways that in the end, never worked. 

. . .

Hux bursts into her office without knocking, paler than she’s ever seen him, and holding a datapad in one hand.

“2187 worked in sanitation on Starkiller for two months.” 

She’s out of her chair before he can even finish speaking, sending a message to the bay to prepare her ship, and disappearing into her closet to change into something more appropriate for a fight.

“Starkiller has been made aware of the threat,” Hux says through the door, “I’ll alert them of your visit.”

She rejoins him in the main room, dressed and with the lightsaber on her belt, and he follows her out into the hall.

“Send half the fleet to Starkiller. The Resistance cannot be allowed to destroy the weapon.”

“Already done. It’ll take time for some to reach the planet, but the  _ Allegiance  _ should be there when you arrive.”

They make it to the bay within minutes, and the technicians preparing her ship scatter. The focus and power radiates off her, shimmering like heat in the desert air, and even Hux can see it. She climbs up into her ship, flicking switches and pulling on her helmet.

“I want prisoners, Admiral. And let the security at Starkiller know I want blasters set to stun.”

“Of course, Empress.”

The engine roars to life, and she’s about to pull down the canopy when she turns to him.

“You’ve done well, Admiral. As always, I am grateful that you were the one to head up the Starkiller project.”

Her jaw tenses, hands clenching on the controls for the canopy.

“We can only hope that it survives to bring peace and order to the galaxy.”

Before he can answer, the canopy falls, the engine roars, and she’s gone.

. . .

_ She searched for the helmet for months, finally finding it on Endor’s moon.  _

_ It was mostly out of curiosity that she went after it, the helmet of the man who had defeated the Emperor decades ago, and it was out of reverence why she kept it. It stood on a pedestal in her quarters, and on many occasions she would stand before it, letting her hand fall to the charred metal. _

_ Emotions and memories were woven through the atoms that held it together, and sometimes she would catch a glimpse of them. A boy, told by the Jedi masters that fear led to anger, anger to hate, that in the end, his fear would lead to the darkness. _

_ But did they do anything for his fear, she wondered, or did they abandon him to a self-fulfilling prophecy? _

_ “Show me the way,” She whispered to the mask, “Help me to finish what you started, Lord Vader.” _

_. . . _

Starkiller is cold, colder than she remembers from her first visit a little over six years ago. 

Rey had come here on assignment from Snoke with the Knights to retrieve kyber crystals from the caves that hid beneath the snow-covered earth. It’d been on that visit, when she entered the cave, that she felt the pull to the twin crystals that now resided in her double-bladed saber.

She would have brought Eight-Seven here, in time. 

The anger bubbles up again at the thought, and she uses it to block out the cold, imagining fire in her fingertips as if that will thaw them as she walks. 

She walks farther into the forest, listening to the silence, and that’s when she feels it.

Someone’s here, someone  _ powerful _ .

She taps her communicator, “They're here. Lock down the base.”

Her saber hums to life, glowing red against the snow, warming her frozen body, and she strides forward with purpose; moving in the direction of the warmth and light of the one she instinctively knows is meant to be her equal in the force.

“I know you're there,” She calls out once she can sense that the Jedi is nearby.

The silence draws out, and then she hears a lightsaber ignite behind her. Rey turns to face her enemy, robes spinning out around her, and when she meets his eyes, something happens.

There’s a hum in the force, deep and old,  _ waiting,  _ something she’d never realized was there before. It goes silent, and she becomes very aware that she can hear her heartbeat.

_ No,  _ she realizes,  _ our heartbeat. _

Then, as quickly as it began, it ends, the sounds of the forest and of the weapons they held rushing back in. 

The thought that he’s  _ pretty _ floats through her mind but she pushes it away, not needing to be distracted even though the thought  _ is  _ true. 

Rey lifts her head high, regal, lets the darkness flare out around her like a warning sign. Anything to seem more powerful than the man who has a solid foot and a half on her in height. She can beat him, she knows this.

She was made for this. 

They walk in a circle around each other, staring, lightsabers hissing as they are dragged across the fresh snow.

  
  


When he lunges, she’s ready, ducking under his arm and swinging. He blocks, she jabs at him, he dodges, swings, leaps over a log. She follows him, and the dance continues. 

She catches his shoulder, burns through the cloth, and he swipes at her arm seconds later. Rey hisses at the pain, and as she leaps over another fallen tree she slaps at it, letting the pain fuel the darkness within her.

They're running and fighting and then running again, a deadly game of hunter and prey and they are both. She almost starts to enjoy it, the challenge.

She hasn't had an equal in so long, she’s almost missed it.

Rey slashes at him again, burns a line through the torso of his coat but never meets skin, and it’s in the moment that follows that when it happens. 

She blocks his next swing, planting her foot on his chest and kicking him to the ground, and right before he hits the ground the earth beneath her feet trembles and shudders horribly.

An explosion.

Everything goes cold as realization sets in, followed by horror.

Another explosion, a third.

She  _ screams _ . 

A fourth, and then he’s on his feet again, heat searing from her right arm to the middle of her collarbone. It burns, the pain nearly blinding her before she draws in its power and unleashes several hits against him.

The last one catches his collarbone, his chin, all the way up to his eyebrow. He stumbles back, and catches her again, stabs her through the side. She falls, but not before taking out the back of both his knees. 

They fall to the cold earth as the planet continues to shake and she weeps; tears freezing on her cheeks.

“You fools,” She says, hate in her voice as she struggles to pull herself upright, “You have no idea what you've done.”

“I know exactly what we’ve done today,” He wheezes, still lying on the ground, “Stopped you from murdering billions of people.”

“I didn’t need it for billions of people.”

Her tears soak into the collar of her robes, stinging in her wounds. She can see the fires in the distance.

“I just needed it for one.”

He looks at her strangely then, as if he can’t quite figure her out, and opens his mouth to speak. He doesn't get the chance though, as his group of rebels appears, running through the trees towards them. 

FN-2187 is among them.

With a snarl, she forces herself to stand, despite the white-hot sear of pain that races through her body at the movement. 

“2187,” She says, voice steady, as if she’s not in pain.

As if her most important project isn't falling apart at this very moment. 

“Empress Rey.”

“When I said come back home, this isn't what I meant.”

They're closer now, The Jedi still on the ground, lightsaber feet away from where he fell. She twirls her own. 

“I’ll let you take him,” Rey says, gathering up her hate for one last fight, “But you will stay behind to fight me.”

“And if I don’t?”

She moves suddenly, swinging the red blade towards the Jedi’s exposed neck, stopping just short of his skin. More than one of the rebels scream. 

“He dies. Your choice.” 

He doesn’t hesitate, stepping forward even when Poe Dameron tries to grab his arm.

“I’ll do it.”

She watches them carefully as they move forward, collecting the Jedi who they call Ben, and carry him away over the hill. Poe Dameron falls behind, looking back at Finn in worry, but goes when Finn motions for him to with his free hand; the other now holding Ben’s lightsaber.

“I should have known,” She laughs bitterly. “That an apprentice who killed her master would never have a loyal apprentice of her own.”

She steps forward, forcing herself to stand up straighter despite the pain, “I had hopes though, 2187-”

“Finn.” He says, sharply, “My name is Finn.”

She grins, “You’ve chosen a name? Good. I was waiting for that, for you to wake up.”

“ _ Finn, _ ” She says, continuing her earlier statement with the correction, “I saw the spark in you long before the Resistance ever did. You need a teacher.”

“I have a teacher.  _ Luke Skywalker. _ ”

She knows then she’ll never get him back, lost to hero worship and the strict teachings of the Jedi that call her evil, and she lets out a sigh before she lunges at him.

“Let’s see what he’s taught you then.”

Their fight is far less elegant than her and Ben’s had been. Finn’s power hasn't fully awoken, not yet, but he has enough combat training to give a fair fight. 

But she’s trained for far longer, and she stops the swing of his lightsaber with an outstretched hand, and moves to drive her own through his chest.

_ Maybe it’s for the best that you fell away,  _ she thinks,  _ It’d hurt me more if I trained you only for you to kill me. Poetic, yes, and adhering to the rule of two, but it’s better this way. _

She’s so focused on Finn that she doesn't see the blaster bolt until it’s too late, heat and pain and _ agony _ crashing into her chest and throwing her to the forest floor. 

Finn stumbles back from her, turning back to the forest, and there is Poe Dameron, blaster still raised.

Rey’s eyes fall shut, the pain is too much, so much that she can no longer harness it for her own power.

The snow falls around her, the ground splits open, and she lets herself drift off into the darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four Preview:
> 
> An eternity passes, or maybe it’s just a couple minutes, and then there are footsteps. Someone falls into the snow next to her, hands still warm from recently-removed gloves pressing against the pulse point on her neck.
> 
> Arms gather her up, and she cries out at the movement, fresh pain burning in all of her wounds. An apology is murmured, and the person begins to run, the ground trembling beneath them.
> 
> She reaches out with what little strength she has and brushes over the mind of the one carrying her as the darkness begins to consume her again. 
> 
> ...
> 
> Thanks for reading! I’d love to know what you thought of the chapter. Chapter 4 will be up next Tuesday 
> 
> Twitter - @sheisntwriting


	4. Chapter 4

An eternity passes, or maybe it’s just a couple minutes, and then there are footsteps. Someone falls into the snow next to her, hands still warm from recently-removed gloves pressing against the pulse point on her neck.

Arms gather her up, and she cries out at the movement, fresh pain burning in all of her wounds. An apology is murmured, and the person begins to run, the ground trembling beneath them.

She reaches out with what little strength she has and brushes over the mind of the one carrying her as the darkness begins to consume her again. 

_ Hux. _

. . .

When she wakes up, she’s in her quarters on the Supremacy 

The feel of bacta is still on her skin, cold and slimy, and she knows she hasn't been out of the tank for long. Her skin is unscarred, she must have been in for days for it to work so well. 

“Ma’am,” A stormtrooper, female, says from the corner.

The soldier walks over, offering a robe, and Rey takes it, sliding her arms into the sleeves and wrapping it around her body as she slowly gets out of the bed.

“General Hux was required on the bridge for most of the day, he should be back within an hour to update you on the situation. A droid will be dropping off dinner.”

“Thank you,” Rey says, standing, grimacing as her muscles burn, “You’re dismissed, HN-3145.”

The stormtrooper salutes before turning on her heel and leaving. Rey makes her way to the fresher, showering the bacta off her skin and drying off before wrapping the robe around her once more. 

Hux is in the main room when she returns, sitting at the table with their dinner. He looks exhausted, dark bags beneath his eyes, skin even paler than normal, hair heavily gelled down to maintain some appearance of being pulled together.

He rises when he sees her, and she nods for him to sit back down. He does, and she sits in the chair across from him.

“Starkiller is gone,” He says, voice breaking, and before she can stop them, there are tears in her eyes.

“It is,” Her heart hurts, but she has to press on, and he does too if they're going to succeed, “We’ll rebuild.”

“Finding another suitable planet will be difficult.”

“We’ll manage.”

She cuts into her food, and he does the same, but the frustrated tension is still there; lingering over them like a dark cloud.

“Phasma is still in critical condition, she was shot multiple times during a fight with the rebels.”

“How many people did we lose?”

“A lot less than we could have,” His voice is steady, but also soft, he knows too much, knows that she’ll blame herself for those deaths, “The safety protocols were efficient and had nearly ninety percent of the base evacuated on the ships after the first explosions.”

Her knife scrapes the plate,  _ screeching _ . 

“They baited us. Baited  _ me. _ ”

It was a brilliant strategy, now that she thinks about it. They must have found out she was there, sent the Jedi back into the forest to lead her away and distract her while the others snuck in before she ordered the lockdown. 

“They won’t get away with it next time.”

She smiles at his faith in her, in their military, “No, they won’t. What happened on D’Qar?”

“They were evacuating when we arrived, while many escaped we did capture,” He looks at the datapad he’s brought with him, “forty-seven of them. We’ve split them up in groups across the fleet, in case the rebels decide to launch an attack against the Supremacy.”

“Good idea, Admiral,” The praise, though minor, does wonders, eyes brightening and shoulders losing some of their tension.

“Thank you, Empress. When we searched the base, we found a datapad that seemed to have been accidentally left behind. A journal. One of the entries mentions that Luke Skywalker has another base that he runs his Jedi school from. We believe that the remaining Resistance will go there to set up their new base.”

“I don't suppose we were lucky enough for the name of the planet to be in the journal?”

He shakes his head, and she sighs, rubbing at the space between her eyebrows, “Send a group out, see what they can find. After that, start looking for a new planet for the Starkiller project and set a course for the Core Worlds.”

“Will do,” He hears the dismissal in her voice, rising from his chair and moving towards the door.

“Tage.” She says, softly. He stops, turns back to her.

She may not love him, not in that way, but she won’t lie and say she hasn't grown fond of him. He’s a constant, loyal and sweet in a way that’s been hard to find in her life so far,  _ genuine.  _

Armitage Hux is no fool, but he is an opportunist, she knows this. It’s why he swore his loyalty to her even before Snoke had died. 

It’s how she knows he is truly loyal to her. That he’ll follow her to the end of the galaxy and back. Any other opportunist would have left her to die in the forest. 

But not him.

“Thank you.”

His cheeks flush, he bows slightly, and then he’s gone.

. . . 

She takes a walk around the ship after he leaves.

It’s comforting, the hum of machinery and life in the Force around them, the air in the engine room dry and warm. The warmth was welcome, Rey was always cold on the ship, a consequence of growing up on a desert planet, and after being in bacta for so long it’d left a cold that seeped down into her bones. 

A couple engineers look up as they work, startled by her presence, but refocus quickly as she walks past. When she abruptly stops next to one of the cooling tanks, the room goes still and silent.

“There’s something wrong with the tank seal,” She says, tone even, steady, and the Chief Mechanic runs over to join her.

There was in fact, a small, barely-noticeable leak in the back of the tank, something that if not noticed, could have cost the Order thousands of credits. The energy around it settles as the leak is sealed, and with one last, unnecessary, glance over the tank, she declares it in working order again.

“I want a full scan of all high priority systems every other day, understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her paranoia feels as though it is at an all time high, higher than it had been even when Snoke was alive. Thoughts of sabotage and Resistance spies and rescue missions run constantly in the back of her mind with no rest. She’s restless, and she’s sure that everyone around her can feel it based on the way one of the mechanics, a young woman with dark hair cut into a short bob, hands shake as she passes by her again.

She goes up to another deck, the one where the majority of crew and guest quarters were, and makes her way to the makeshift security room there. Since she had made the decision to put their Resistance prisoners in the suites instead of the cells down in the lower floors of the ship, they had pulled together a surveillance room with cameras in the suites. 

“How are our guests, HN-2157?”

“Comfortable as ever, ma’am. The blond one has been winning the last couple hands of cards.”

The blond man’s companions are clearly unhappy about this, and she barely stops a laugh from bubbling up out of her at the realization that he’s  _ cheating.  _

“There’s a wad of playing cards in the back of his pants, the devil.” A chuckle did leave her then, she can’t help it, and then her expression sobers again, “Any talk that I should know about?”

“Nothing substantial. A couple whispered speeches about how the resistance will send a rescue soon, wondering why they're in nice quarters, pulling at wall panels.”

“Good work. I'll have one of the Generals send you more guards, just in case they try something.”

. . .

She finds herself unable to meditate that night, and it worries her.

The forest, or more specifically,  _ the Jedi _ consume her thoughts now that everything has slowed down. There’s no more meetings tonight, no more time to talk with engineers, no more checking on the prisoners. Hux is in his quarters, searching for another planet for their project, and she doesn't want to distract him from his work; especially when Rey knows that he took the loss of Starkiller harder than he lets her see.

So she sits on the floor, and keeps trying to meditate, only to be distracted yet again by a pair of pretty eyes, reflecting the purple glow of their weapons.

Meditation abandoned, she rises from the floor and walks over to the nearly-hidden door in the wall. If one did not know there was another room she doubts they would even know the door was there. It slides open at the wave of her hand, no panel or handle, only someone with the force will be able to find their way in.

The room is small, warm, dark except for the window that looks out into the expanse of space. The faint light of some distant system’s sun makes the pedestal shimmer and glow, but the helmet atop it remains untouched. 

She walks to it, kneels before the pedestal, and tries to reach out into the force for a ghost, a memory, a guide. Some days the old sith will walk with her in her dreams, on even rarer ones a Jedi will appear. 

With no Master, even she finds herself lost sometimes. 

Darth Vader is the most frequent visitor, the chosen one who fell to the dark because of her own grandfather, but who came back to save his child and betray his Master. Light and dark, she trusts that if anyone can give her the answers she seeks, he can. 

After all, his son must be the Jedi’s master. 

“My lord,” She begins, voice clear and loud as if he’ll hear her any better that way even though she knows he’d hear even a whisper, “if you can, show me the man who I fought in the forest, tell me his name.”

Her hand touches the helmet, and the vision overtakes her. The world fades away, and then there is only sand and hot, dry air. A burning sun, no,  _ two suns _ . 

A woman with dark hair and dark eyes,  _ the man’s eyes,  _ gently touching the face of her son as he prepares to leave her, to go with the Jedi. Another woman, in an orange cloak with a gold-trimmed hood. The boy calls her an angel. 

She blinks, and the two are older. The boy is a man, consumed with love and anger, manipulated by Palpatine. She easily recognizes the woman now that she’s older,  _ Senator Amidala _ . 

_Loss,_ so horrible and heartbreaking that it steals the breath from her lungs and brings tears to her eyes. 

The Princess of Alderaan, Senator Organa,  _ General,  _ stands before the man that is her father by blood only. In her eyes he is the enemy, a monster, an accomplice in the murder of billions on Alderran. 

She kisses a smuggler, they have a son-

_ Ben. _

“Your grandson?” She asks, gasping as the world floods back into view. 

The hair on the back of her neck stands up, something like static energy hanging in the air all around her. A low hum fills her ears, and she senses a presence behind her.

Rey whirls around, lightsaber already flying to her hand from the other room. She barely stops herself from igniting it at the sight of the very person she had seen in her vision.

Ben stands there, looking just as confused as she feels, if not more, and there’s a brief moment of panic, shock,  _ intrigue, _ before she remembers that he had destroyed Starkiller and was her enemy.

Her hand flies up, focusing on him,  _ “You will tell me the location of the Resistance.” _

A heartbeat passes, and then another, and he raises an eyebrow at her, shrugging his shoulders.

“You want to try that again or-”

Before he could say any more, whatever had happened between them came to an end, and he disappeared as if he was never there in the first place. 

. . .

She dreams that night, but they are not dreams. 

No, they are memory.  _ History _ .

Hot, dry air. Sand shifting beneath her feet on the dunes. Sun-heated metal. 

Her belly is empty, hungry, mouth dry and lips cracking from a lack of water. Plutt sends her into wrecks that no one else can get into, orders her to squeeze behind machinery to fix it with hands small enough to not be crushed. 

A creature finds her in the tiny side room of Plutt’s store where the slave children sleep, its hands skeletal and cold, face hidden beneath a hood. It hands her a weapon, a lightsaber, humming with energy and _ hate.  _ It speaks to her, the voice echoing in her mind, the other children not waking despite the presence.

“You know what you must do,” It whispers, “Through victory your chains will be broken, the Force will set you free.”

_ “I’ll tell you where your parents are,”  _ Instead of the creature’s voice, it is her mother’s, then her father’s, echoing the statement.

She rises, walks across Niima Outpost in the dead of night, and kills the old Croloute where he sleeps in his palace of a tent. 

She steals all the portions he keeps for himself out of spite, taking them back to the others and leaving them in a pile on the floor.

_ “Well done,”  _ The creature says, waiting for her outside when she emerges once more from the store.

It leads her to a ship, concealed among the wreckage, and the girl leaves the desert planet to face her destiny.

To face her family. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Tuesday, Ben and Rey meet again, but this time not on the battlefield...
> 
> “This isn’t you.” Ben says, a curious look on his face, “The effort would kill you.”
> 
> “Why is the Force connecting us?” She muses aloud, equally curious, “Can you see my surroundings? I can't see yours.”
> 
> “No, I can’t.”
> 
> I should be trying to find the Resistance, she thinks, but the thought drifts away as he looks at the dress. 
> 
> He raises an eyebrow at her outfit, and to her horror she blushes, “Going somewhere?”


	5. Chapter 5

Phasma appeared the next morning in her office, polished and professional looking as ever in her chrome armor. If Rey didn’t know she had been in a bacta pod the day before she would have never guessed it, even the empress still looked a little worn down and weary after a full day out.

There was a brief moment of small talk, followed by reports. Stormtrooper test results, promotions, the investigation ongoing in the FN series to make sure that Finn was the only one who wished to defect, and lastly, the reports from her talks with their prisoners.

Not interrogation, no, an opportunity to speak if they wished, away from the others. 

Snoke had always pushed for interrogation and torture of prisoners, but Rey knew that if news got out that she did the same, she’d lose support from regional leaders in the Core and Mid Rim. Which, if she didn't want to have to campaign in the Core and cause an unnecessary amount of bloodshed, was needed.

Poe Dameron had been an exception, only tortured for information because he tried to kill her. The regional leaders would understand how their hand had been forced if it ever got out. 

And to be fair, she did give him a chance, like she did this new group of captured resistance members. 

If they didn't want to talk, they'd simply be returned to the lush, comfortable quarters they had been kept in. Better to make them conflicted about what the Rebels could give them than to make them hate the Order more than they already did.

“One of them tried to escape this morning.”

Not surprising, the rebels were always the slippery, heroic type, “Which one?”

“A pilot from Hayes Minor named Paige Tico. She had help.”

Rey went still, setting down the datapad, “She did now?”

“One of the mechanics we hired from Sacul Industries last month. Looks like we’ve had a spy in our midst all this time, and to add to the drama.” Phasma tapped at something on the datapad before setting it down on the table, two profiles with pictures of both pilot and spy side by side, “They're sisters.”

Rey hummed in acknowledgement, trying to keep her frustration off her face. She  _ knew _ she’d felt something in Engineering the day before, and now it was clear. The spy had been there, within feet of where she stood.

“We moved the spy in with her friends and an investigation into the Sacul mechanics will begin tomorrow.”

“Good. Keep me updated.”

Phasma nodded, waiting for dismissal, but Rey held up a hand. 

“One more thing.”

Rey swiped at the datapad, returning to the list of stormtroopers receiving promotions that they had talked about earlier.

“Allow the troopers to choose names, encourage it.” Phasma raised an eyebrow, but nodded again in acknowledgement. Rey knew that Hux wouldn’t be pleased but he’d get over it eventually. They were her troops after all.

“I want them happy, content,  _ wanting _ to serve the order.”

“Understood.”

. . .

By the end of the day, they had arrived at the Core, and more specifically, Coruscant. 

There was some sort of party, some military thing, she honestly didn't care. But it looked good for her to be there, Hux on her arm, so she had accepted the invitation. 

She should care, she knew that, but for now she had much more pressing things to attend to, to focus fully on a  _ party.  _ Hux would take care of it, passing along the more pressing details of the evening later, she was sure. She’d just have to show up and not kill anyone.

Not the easiest thing to do when in a room filled with corrupt politicians and generals but oh well. She’d do her best.

Tela, the clothing organizer for the highest ranking officers on the Supremacy, had dropped off the outfit for the party earlier that morning; knowing that Rey preferred to not have help with dressing. 

When she opened the pod that the dress had been delivered in, standing up against a nearby wall, she gasped.

Weeks ago, when Tela had dropped by to pull together details for outfits for the next couple events, Rey had offhandedly joked to make something that would make the politicians talk. 

Rey hadn't expected Tela to take that as inspiration and go beyond and above with it.

It’d be a shock if they  _ didn't  _ talk. 

It was  _ gold,  _ shimmering and sparkling in the light, long-sleeved and double-layered; a wide belt the color of brass around her waist and a much smaller, rope belt atop that. The inner layer was beige, crossing at the front in a style so distinctive it was impossible to not recognize.

The style of the old Jedi, before Order 66 led to their near extinction.

She dressed quickly, tying the belt and smoothing her hands over her hair; the elaborate braided style already done before she had returned to get ready in her quarters. 

The simple, black quartz studs were barely in her ears when the air shifted behind her, the Force letting out that low hum that she’d come to associate with  _ him. _

She turned, slowly, not as alarmed as before, and caught him looking at her with a strange look in his eye. The moment she witnessed on his face after that was almost like someone trying to break out of a trance, forcing himself to meet her eyes.

“This isn’t you.” Ben said, a curious look on his face, “The effort would kill you.”

“Why is the Force connecting us?” She mused aloud, equally curious, “Can you see my surroundings? I can't see yours.”

“No, I can’t.”

_ I should be trying to find the Resistance,  _ she thought, but the idea drifted away as he looked at the dress. 

He raised an eyebrow at her outfit, and to her horror she  _ blushed _ , “Going somewhere?”

“Obviously.”

She saw that glint in his eye, something she didn’t recognize since she didn’t know him but that she somehow  _ knew, _ the look in his eye that says he was about to say something sarcastic but not mean spirited.

_ How do I know these things?  _ She asked herself, and before he could speak, the connection closed again. 

She no longer cared about the fact that Hux would be arriving to leave for the party in ten minutes. She dropped to the floor, settling into the pool of fabric that the skirt of the gown spills out into, and meditated. 

There was a tether, a cord, a line of pure energy that ran from her out into the universe. She followed it, the stars blurred around her, she couldn’t figure out where he is, not even when she reached the end of the cord and finds the warmth of light, the bright star shot through with a vein of darkness, that was Ben.

_ Her Ben. _

Her eyes opened in a panic, unsure where that thought came from, and she tooo a long moment to reinforce the walls around her mind.

If this connection grew, she would not endanger the mission. 

There was too much to be done for Ben Solo to distract her. 

. . .

The party was boring, as these political things tended to be. 

They left early, Rey summoning Hux to her side with a pointed brush over his mind, taking his arm and stepping out into the cool night. The transport waited there to bring them home to the Supremacy. 

It was muscle memory, taking his hand in both of hers, resting them on her leg over the mass of fabric that fills up nearly half the back of the transport. The fingers of one hand pressed against his pulse, feel the steady beat of his life force there, the warmth of his skin. 

She’d grown softer towards him since he saved her. Still no love, no, there will never be love, but  _ fondness _ . 

At one point at the beginning of her reign, she’d contemplated a formal alliance. A child would keep him loyal, she’d thought, even though he’d deny that fact with all the breath in his lungs. She wouldn't have minded a child with him, it would have been beautiful. Powerful too. Smart. 

He would have thrived with the power that came with being her consort, even more so than he does now.

But something was different now. She couldn’t fully explain it, there were no words. Just the knowledge that that was not the path that the Force directed them towards. 

She’d stay on the path of keeping him close for now, just like with Phasma.

Beneath it all, the grandeur and the power, she was still just a lonely girl on Jakku, searching for belonging. Maybe that was why she drew people in close, buttered them up and gave them what they want so they’d stay. Maybe that was why 2187- _ no, Finn’s- _ hurt so deeply, that even after everything, he still abandoned her. 

Just like her parents did. 

She didn’t not want to be alone, and neither did Hux, she knew that from the many times she’s been in his mind.

She slipped in now, dipping beneath the surface, and he stiffened. A natural reaction, she didn’t blame him, and she pushed a vision across the connection, children studying in history books about the  _ great _ Armitage Hux, until he relaxed again and she went deeper into his mind.

Gently, she didn’t want to hurt him, she smoothed over the memories like a balm instead of Snoke’s preferred technique that felt like a dagger, soothing even as she looked through his lifetime. His father, a cruel man, was featured in many a memory. 

She watched the man die, at his own son’s hand, and she smiled.

_ “Well done.”  _ She murmured into his mind and he shivered.

There wasn’t much time to continue searching, and she didn’t want to linger too long, leaving him unsettled and exhausted, so she pulled away; reaching out to guide him towards her, to let his head fall on her shoulder so he can rest for a moment before they reached the ship.

. . .

_ “You’ll take this throne someday, my child.” He says to a girl who is far too young to lead, “It’s your birthright, what your parents tried to deny you. They feared your power, I do not.” _

He told her of the Empire, of its glory.

And she almost believed him, almost.

After growing up in the harsh desert, Rey is not prone to believing people when they speak. She always checks, always looks, always investigates. 

She only saw her grandfather once a year, so there was plenty of time to investigate his claims from the Supremacy. It was difficult, though, when the information is clearly filtered before it reaches the ship’s datapads. Republic news records are missing, only old Empire works detailing life before the Republic remain.

She learned quickly to build up walls around her mind, how to hide information within useless memories, so that when Snoke came looking for betrayal and conflict, he’d find nothing but loyalty. 

He called her now, the hum in the back of her mind deep and  _ angry. _

He knew Snoke was dead, knew he couldn’t control her anymore, and she knew that they didn’t have much time. He’s been summoning her for days, and she knew he couldn’t continue for much longer; not without Snoke’s life force to draw from. 

It took him six days the year before, but it had ended. She held to that belief now, the truth that it would end, through the pressure and pain of the headache that never let up even when she slept.

Someday this would end for good. She could only hope that she lived to see the world after it.    
  


“Are you alright?” Ben asked, she hadn't even realized he was there from where she laid on the floor; having fallen over during a fresh wave of pain while meditating.

“Never better,” Rey snarked, forehead still pressed to the floor.

She  _ really _ should be yelling at him, trying to figure out where the Jedi are, but she didn’t have the energy for that right then, so she said nothing.

His footsteps on another world move towards her and she heard his knee touch the floor close to her head.

A part of her wondered if he was about to kill her. Was that even possible through this connection, this  _ bond?  _ She lifted one hand from the floor, just slightly, preparing to call her blade to her if she heard his ignite.

Instead, his warm hands touched her face, cradled it-

_ He’s there at her side in the cold darkness that consumes Exegol. She’s safe, she’s not alone, she’s raising her lightsaber to strike down the emperor- _

She gasped , suddenly finding the strength to move, to scramble back from his touch as he fell to the floor beside her.

Rey almost expected the bond to close again, after that, but it held.

Her shields had slipped slightly from the shock of the vision and Palpatine’s voice wasted no time falling through the cracks in her defenses.

**_You will return to me. Your destiny is here, you cannot escape me forever, child._ **

_ “Never,”  _ She snarled, and shoved up her defenses again, crying out as the pain returned with even more intensity.

Ben was there before she could even breathe again, his hands on her face once more, and before she could snarl at him, ask him what he thought he was doing,  _ the pain faded into something smaller,  _ something like a distant knock on a door that she didn’t have to answer.

“I tried to kill you.” She pushed herself up a bit, trying to get to where she could see him, leaning more into his hands in the process, “Why are you helping me?”

“You were in pain,” He said, voice deep and almost  _ comforting _ , “And I have some experience with someone summoning me like that, I’d recognize it anywhere.”

She made it to her knees, arms reaching out to steady herself, and his hands left her face to catch them. There was a spark in the Force when they touched, not just in her, but in their bond, in the living universe.

_ This was meant to be,  _ she understood,  _ the Force has brought us here.  _

His forehead fell to rest against hers, they breathed each other’s air, and there was a long moment where she wondered why she felt this way,  _ why she felt at home at last _ . It was so intimate, terrifying, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from him, only to speak.

“I can’t face him alone, I know that now.”

“Him?”

“You don't know?”

He pulled away, leaving her missing the closeness, and the look on his face told her everything. She opened her mouth to speak, understanding now what the Force is asking of them, but before the words left her lips the connection closed.

Her hands closed around nothing and the only thing worse than the blinding pain of her headache was the loneliness that accompanied his leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s dress - https://www.teutamatoshi.com/products/boras-intricate-lace-gown
> 
> Next Tuesday, Rey and Ben grow closer even as they try to gain more control over their ends of the bond, and we spend time in Ben’s POV at the Resistance Base/Jedi School on Ahch-To.
> 
> “Hux was familiar, maybe if she distracted herself enough with him then she could forget the Jedi, Ben, for a moment. 
> 
> She’s reaching up to cradle his head in her hands, noticing that he didn't shave that morning, when the hair on the back of her neck stood up; the hum following seconds later.
> 
> Of course he’d show up now. The Force has a cruel sense of humor.”
> 
> “She seemed convinced that she could no longer do it alone, and if that was the truth then he really was her only hope.
> 
> And she was his.”
> 
> I’d love to know what you thought of the chapter! Thank you for reading! ❤️


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 aka idiots trying to deal with their feelings

In time, as always, the Emperor was forced to end his summons and she was free once more,

Rey hadn’t seen Ben since their last connection, and she found herself looking for him often during meetings, during dinner, during the moments of everyday life as she walked through the halls of the Supremacy.

The fleet was moving out of the Core Worlds, towards the Outer Rim. They’d been preparing for the campaign for months, planning out the efforts to crack down on the planets in the region and in time, improve the lives of those living there. 

The Hutts and the Pyke cartels had ruled long enough, order would come to the Outer Rim in time. She’d taken Hux off the Starkiller project, telling him that another weapon was no longer needed, and had a lovely dinner with him to soothe his wounded pride at the second loss of his beloved project. The campaign was a gift, taken from General Pryde after she had glanced over his mind on the bridge and found traitorous thoughts there, the thoughts of one who worked for her grandfather and not for her.

Pryde had been disposed of quietly, and the celebrations surrounding the promotions helped smooth over any confusion and distract from any conversation about his disappearance. But the incident had reminded her just how far Palpatine’s reach still was, what weapons he had at his disposal. 

“Now,” She hummed, “Grand Admiral Thrawn. He’ll need to be addressed eventually. I’m not sure if his loyalties to the old empire will carry over after all these years in the Unknown Regions.”

“We’ll be ready,” Hux said, confident, and she smiled. It looked good on him, “I'll send a squadron with long-range scanning to patrol the border out past Jakku.”

He looked healthier now than she’d ever seen him, Snoke’s death and his promotion had done him good. Gone was the frustrated, struggling man that Snoke called  _ rabid cur _ ; he was calm now, rested,  _ focused.  _

How long has it been since she kissed him, she wondered? She contemplated it as he poured more wine into his glass. It was Hosnian, far too expensive for her tastes, desert rat that she was but pretended not to be, but he enjoyed it, so she bought it anytime they were in the system. 

She took a sip of her own, and the answer finally came to her. 

_ Starkiller _ . Not when it was destroyed, no, long before that. When she had asked him to work on it. 

Everything had gotten so busy; he was on Starkiller, she was away for the campaign to take the Mid Rim, then everything with the Resistance.

So long ago now, she had almost forgotten what it felt like to be so close to someone with such loyalty. 

She moved quickly, before the meal was even over, which she realized was very unlike her, and sat down on his lap, which was  _ also  _ very unlike her. Every other time, no matter who it was, she stood, or sat on the edge of the table, or even on the arm of the chair. Never the lap.

But for him, after all this time, she supposed she could make an exception as her lips slanted over his own, making up for lost time. She ignored the nagging thought in the back of her mind that she was  _ lonely,  _ that she missed the Jedi of all people, that she was seeking attention solely because she hadn't received any from him in days. His touch on her face was addicting, and that terrified her. Hux was familiar, maybe if she distracted herself enough with him then she could forget the Jedi,  _ Ben,  _ for a moment. 

She was reaching up to cradle his head in her hands, noticing that he hadn’t shaved that morning, when the hair on the back of her neck stood up; the hum following seconds later.

_ Of course  _ he’d show up now. The Force had a cruel sense of humor. 

Her cheeks and neck flushed without her permission and she held back a curse as she slowly pulled away from Hux, smoothing her thumb over his cheek.

“I’m sorry to cut our dinner short, Admiral.” She could  _ feel  _ Ben watching her as she rose, “There’s something I must attend to.”

He nodded, saying something in agreement that she didn’t quite catch, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and stood to watch her go. Rey walked as slowly and as steadily as she could manage in the situation, feeling uncharacteristically flustered and  _ still  _ blushing like a  _ fool  _ and not like the Empress she was. 

When she reached her quarters, Ben appearing in the corner of her vision once the door had shut behind her, she took a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself.

“So, you and Hux?” 

There was a certain tone in his words, something she couldn’t quite identify. She refused to meet his eyes, instead turning to the vanity to begin unpinning the diadem from the top of her head. 

“There is no me and Hux.” She said, and her voice was steady. It was the truth, and she knew it. 

“Sure didn't look that way to me, sweetheart.”

She nearly dropped the diadem, but eventually steadied her hands and set it down on its cushion on the vanity. Heat bloomed across her cheeks yet again, and she grit her teeth in annoyance.

_ Where did that come from? And why was she allowing it? _

“Everyone needs something, Solo, and providing what someone needs makes them loyal to you.”

“Sounds manipulative.”

“He understands what we are.” Any look into his mind would tell her that. Hux loves the  _ attention _ , not necessarily her. She doesn’t mind though, it would make things far more complicated if there was true attachment there.

She heard Ben awkwardly shift his weight, and she sighed, walking over to the closet and shutting the door behind her, “Anyways, there are far more important things to discuss. Like the fact that your mother and uncle don’t realize that Palpatine is still alive.”

“There’s no way that’s possible,”He said, and she rolled her eyes, undoing the zipper at the back of her dress with the Force and grabbing her robe from the hook, “He fell thousands of feet, Luke saw it.”

She pushed the door open, tying her robe shut as she moved, “Last I checked he was a very powerful Sith Lord and  _ very  _ much alive.” 

A pause.

“And  _ no,  _ I’m not mistaken. He’s my grandfather, Solo.”

“Oh.”

Now that she could properly see him, not just avoiding him, the sight nearly took her breath away. He was sitting on the ground, a soft-looking white shirt stretched across his shoulders, rays of sunlight cast across him, as if he was sitting under a tree and the light was filtering through. 

She nearly lost her train of thought at the sight, barely managing to drag her attention back to the matter at hand.

“Yep.” She sat down on the edge of her bed, taking in the sight of his still shocked face, “Shocking I know. We don’t really resemble each other, thank the force for that.”

Ben choked on a startled laugh, and the sound nearly made her laugh as well, before her face sobered and turned serious.

“When he sent Snoke to get me years ago, I was a slave in the desert. He brought me back with stories of a once-glorious empire and a new one where I would inherit the throne and bring balance back to the galaxy. But it was a lie.”

_ “Who are you?” The girl asks the man in her dream, the two of them far away from the training facility she lives in, instead in a lush jungle. The oceans roars in the near distance. She’s an apprentice, controlled and powerful, four years from the desert and her days as a slave, “What do you want?” _

_ “To save you, child. To save you from the one who killed me.” _

“I won’t be the one to take the throne, the Sith in their entirety will, through me. I’ll be gone, my body will just be a vessel for the darkness that lurks on Exegol. I thought Starkiller was the answer, destroy the planet and everything on it without even setting foot on the ground.”

Ben was silent, watching her with a look in his eye. Sadness? No, why would he be sad, they were enemies weren’t they? Enemies bound together by the Force. Enemies who comforted each other…

So maybe not enemies. Allies then.

He was sad for his ally, maybe even regretting destroying Starkiller because of how inconvenient it was making their lives.

“The Force calls me there, to end it, but I can’t defeat him alone. I know that now.”

_ “As for who I am,” The man sits down on a fallen tree, rot working its way up the trunk from the heavy rainfall, “I suppose I could say that I’m your grandmaster.” _

_ “You trained Master Snoke?” _

“How do you know this? I doubt that he’d tell you.”

“The Jedi are not the only of our dead who still speak.”

_ The man, her grandmaster, laughs almost sadly under his breath, “Snoke is simply an extension of your grandfather, Sidious. He is no master, not to me. I was your grandfather’s master many years ago. You may call me Plageuis.” _

“We need to meet in person.” She stood, walking closer to him as he did the same in response, “The bond is too unreliable to train together and we need to be as strong as we can going into Exegol.”

He nodded, but there was apprehension in his eyes, in the focused crease between his eyebrows, “I’ll have to talk to the Masters.”

“What will you do if they say no?” She asked, and it came out darker than she intended. Almost a taunt. 

He didn’t answer aloud, but on the very edge of his mind, teetering on the bridge that is their bond, Rey sensed that he would go to her. That they would finish what his grandfather started, together. 

“So you aren't just a slave to the Jedi teachings.” She smiled, but his eyes are troubled, “Good to know. But remember,”

She stepped closer, crowding in his space, close enough that she could smell him, could feel the warmth his skin has soaked in from the sun radiating off his skin and into the cold air of the ship. 

“If you do not help me, all will be lost. You’re my only hope.”

. . .

The Masters had always spoken of control. 

Control of the mind, of the body, of the emotions, of the  _ life.  _ With control came freedom. It prevented attachment from becoming it’s more dangerous form, possession. It prevented anger, a fuel for justice, from becoming hate. 

It kept fears from pulling a Jedi from the light. 

For the Jedi that came after the massacre, after Darth Vader, control was  _ everything. _

And now, Ben had lost that control, as if he hadn't spent years working on it to begin with.

She  _ consumed  _ his thoughts _.  _ He thought of her near constantly, to the point where he had not been able to successfully meditate since Starkiller. He’d nearly find the peace, the quiet, the emptiness of the force, and then he’d catch sight of the thread of light that led to her. Any good Jedi would have brought this to their Master, especially after realizing that they had been connected in such a way by the Force, but Ben had not been able to bring himself to do so.

He’d never felt less alone as when she was there, somewhere across the galaxy and in the same room as him at the same time. There was a connection there, something that he’d never felt before, something that felt as if it had  _ waited _ for her to arrive in his life.

He should hate her, he knew that. She had Poe  _ beaten _ , stole the information of the location of the Resistance from his mind, sent her ships after them. Their people were on her ships, thankfully unharmed, but still, prisoners.

He shouldn’t allow himself to sit with her as if they weren’t enemies, to speak with her in anything but a steady tone. He’d  _ held _ her in her moment of pain without another thought, seen visions that left him confused and conflicted.

She was pulling him from the light without a single word, all because he had lost the control he had worked so hard to gain. 

Now, he’d be forced to take back control, to face the Masters and confess to them what he’d hidden away. He couldn't avoid it, she spoke the truth, the Force had brought them together at just the right moment to defeat Palpatine. She seemed convinced that she could no longer do it alone, and if that was the truth, then he was really her only hope.

And she was his.

His and the rest of the galaxy’s.

Ben sat for another hour under the tree, a rarity on the Temple Island on Ahch-To other than the one that housed the temple itself, attempting to meditate and gather his thoughts for what he already knew would be a trying meeting with his mother, uncle, and Master Ahsoka. 

His walk to the First Temple was spent in tense silence, broke up only by the chirping of the aggravatingly adorable little ship-burrowing-pests that Luke had informed him over and over again were called  _ porgs,  _ and the hum of life and voices from the ship-village down the cliff from him. The rebel fleet was spread across the handful of islands on the ocean planet, and despite the security concerns, his mother had insisted on staying on the Temple Island with the rest of her family. 

The ancient Uneti Tree loomed overhead, blocking out the sun from his view where he stood on the stairs, and he took a deep breath of the cool air before forcing himself to continue climbing. There was someone within, not his mother, he was sure, and he had a strong feeling it wasn’t Luke. 

Ahsoka then. He actually preferred her for moments like these. She was the least likely to push him for information before the meeting, unlike his mother and uncle.

“Master.” He said, bowing once he entered the temple and saw her.

“Knight Solo.”

Fear took up residence in his head, his chest, and his mouth went dry as he tried to find the words to say next. Master Ahsoka looked at him with eyes that spoke of her many years, and gestured to the bench in front of the mosaic on the floor.

“Sit down, Ben.”

He did so without another word, and after walking across the room to pour two cups of the fragrant tea Luke always kept on hand in here, she sat down next to him and handed him his.

“Luke was supposed to be here today, did you know that? Your mother requested a last minute lunch with him and your father.”

He shook his head, and she spoke again, “Whatever it is that is troubling you, Ben, I can guess that it would be far more difficult to discuss it with him or your mother than with me?”

“It would.”

She nodded, taking a sip from her tea, “The Force puts people where they need to be. If you came here seeking guidance, or even just an ear, please speak freely with me. I only want to help.”

“Thank you, Master.” He hesitated, and she glanced over at him in concern, “It’s a bit of a long story, I ask for your patience and your mercy.”

“You have it, Ben.”

The words fall out in a rush after that, and Ahsoka never said anything, just sat, listened, and drank the tea as his went cold in his hands. The wind blew off the ocean, and when he was done speaking, having given far more information that he thought he would, they sat in silence for a long moment. 

“Thank you for your honesty.” Her voice was soft, and she was silent for a long moment before she spoke again, “I had guessed that at least part of this was about a girl.”

“What?”

“You forget that your grandfather was my Master, little one.”

For a brief moment he was a youngling again, going to Ahsoka for comfort when one of the others had been cruel. He felt safe,  _ understood _ , that she wouldn’t cast him out.

“Any time Anakin returned from Coruscant, he’d have this look in his eye. He tried to hide it, but that was the thing about Anakin, he could never hide the look in his eye after he saw Padme. You’ve had that same look in your eye for a couple days now.”

He found himself struck with silence, unable to find a response, and the Master pushed forward in the conversation. He was thankful for that, as well, Luke or his mother would have sat and waited for an answer that wouldnt come. 

“This connection is no accident, it is the will of the Force that you two met again off of the battlefield. It calls for peace and balance through you, both of you. This is the sign we’ve been waiting for, Ben.”

She rose, and Ben with her, and she turned to face him.

“I will speak to the other Masters on your behalf.”

“Thank you, Master.”

She smiled warmly at him before she turned on her heel, walking out towards the stairs that led out of the temple. He moved to follow her out, but she called back over her shoulder to him.

“Now, sit, meditate for a little while here now that your mind is clearer. Attempt to regain your control, and with it, your peace. I will return once I have spoken with them.”

He sat there in the light of the slowly-setting sun for a long time, meditating, letting the force wash over him, heal him, focus him on the goal, until he sensed his mother’s signature at the door of the temple. He didn’t open his eyes, waiting, seeing what she would say, if she would stay, and he heard her feet pad across the floor towards him.

“I know you aren’t really meditating, little starfighter.”

For a moment he was tempted to remind her that he was a grown man, but the words refused to reach his lips. He opened his eyes, and she was there, eye to eye with him, her hand reaching out to gently touch his cheek.

“Oh my son, I should have known the force would have plans for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you liked the new chapter! 
> 
> New chapter should hopefully be up next Tuesday, I’ve reached the end of my prewritten chapters and have a lot of blanks to fill in. But here’s a preview from what I do have:
> 
> “What do you need?”  
> “What?”  
> “Yesterday, when we were talking about Hux, you said that everyone needs something. What do you need?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of child abuse and child slavery. Blood mention. Syringe mention.

He returned from his meeting with a list of demands.

The hunt from the resistance needed to officially end, with the captured members from the fight at D’Qar released from First Order custody. When they met, it would be on a neutral planet, and they would go alone, with him reporting back to the the Resistance every other day from the ship.

She was fine with those demands, but the third was something she wouldn't give up. Not even to see him.

“I’ll give you back your people, but I won’t pull mine out of the Outer Rim. That’s unreasonable.”

“The higher ups here believe it’s a hostile takeover and that for me to associate with the leader of it would be less than appealing to our allies.”

She snarled, the familiar warmth of  _ frustration, anger, rage  _ bubbling up to the surface.

“It’s a crackdown on illegal activites such as slavery,  _ of course _ it’s going to be hostile. Do you even know how much preparation goes into shutting down the biggest credit-source in the Outer Rim?  _ No,  _ of course you don't, your precious Republic stayed in the Core and left us all to die!”

She couldn’t help but lash out, battering his mind with images. 

_ A girl with hands that bleed from the dry air and sharp edges of salvage, sunken cheeks and ribs that can easily be counted, Plutt’s hand tight around her arm, dragging her across the sand.  _

_ Her red lightsaber igniting in the basement of a building in Coruscant, the eyes of slave traffickers reflecting in the scarlet glow. The pools of their blood around her. A small boy, his hands near skeletal, clings to the hem of her blood-soaked robes, unafraid, knowing her only as his savior. She lifts him into her arms, holds him tight, carries him out as the Stormtroopers enter to rescue the others who still hide in the corners.  _

_ His mother is dead. Rey takes him away to a planet, green and lush and beautiful, and watches as the sun reaches his skin and warms him, how he smiles at everything he sees. He stays here, even after she’s gone, left with a family who she knows will take care of and love him; the sister of a trusted and loyal officer.  _

“Do you understand now?” She hissed, too close to a sob, “I’d rather the galaxy burn and everything in it die than stop the campaign in the Outer Rim.”

Her face hardened, anger clear across her features, and he was vaguely aware of the tears on his cheeks. The dark side rushed over him in a wave,  _ anger and hate _ , and it was only after a long moment of the overwhelming emotions that he remembered himself, his training, and drew back to the light.

“Tell your mother what she needs to hear, and I’ll find us a planet.”

And with that, she slammed the connection shut.

. . .

_ Something’s wrong.  _

She knew it before she even opened her eyes, and there was a sudden emptiness in her spirit, a silence in the air around her that normally hummed with the Force. 

A footstep fell too heavily to the right of her bed, the side closest to the door, and she acted on instinct, rolling left. She fell off the bed, reaching to summon her lightsaber from the nightstand, and cursed when it didn’t fly to her hand. She leapt up in the darkness, feeling for the hilt, but before she could get her grip on it there were hands on her shoulders, yanking her back. 

She flailed, throwing her head back and smiling when the unwanted visitor yelped in pain, accidentally releasing her as he went to press his hand to his face. She managed to grab the lightsaber this time, flicking her thumb over both ignition switches, and the room suddenly glowed with scarlet light.

The saber felt light in her hands, her sudden disconnect from the Force leaving her unable to sense the steady roar of kyber fire, unable to summon the feeling of weight that normally accompanied her weapon.

The intruder lunged forward again into the light, scarlet light catching a heavy trail of blood falling from his nose and down his chin. She slashed at him, but his weapon, a staff which she quickly realized was lightsaber resistant, stopped her swing. His other hand grabbed at his side and came away with a syringe.

She didn’t need the Force to sense that whatever was in that syringe would lead to her end and acted on instinct, diving to the right and rolling roughly on one shoulder till she was back on her feet; the man in pursuit. She swung at him again, but judged the distance wrong, only singeing his sleeve, but it gave her time to back up to the door and fumble for the controls. He lunged at her again, tackling her just as the door slid open and they went flying back into the hallway. The lightsaber was thrown down the hall, metal screeching at it formed red-hot gashes in the shiny, pristine walls and floors. 

The wind was knocked out of her, but she managed to jab him in the throat with her fist, draw in a deep breath, and  _ scream _ .

All her senses focused in on the syringe, so close to her arm now, an arm currently unprotected by armor or even a sleeve. She grabbed at his hands, pushing upwards, but he had the significant size advantage and his weight pushed their hands back down together; closer to her skin. 

The tip of the needle brushed her arm, pain sparking at the point, and then there was a blur of red light and the smell of burning. The body of the man fell away to the side, the needle going with him. 

She felt weak suddenly, even though she knew that nothing in the syringe made its way into her system. The adrenaline faded away, her hands shaking, and it took her a moment to register the Stormtrooper’s hand. She took it, pulling herself up from the floor, and then there was another Stormtrooper with her robe, helping her into it and warding off the chill in the air that always accompanied the interior of the First Order ships. 

“Is he dead?” She asked, and one of them walked over and confirmed it. 

Now that she could get closer, she saw the container strapped to his back with air holes at the top. Rey opened it, and everything made sense then at the sight of the baby Ysalamir in the bottom of the cage. 

She heard hurried footsteps behind her and she turned to find Hux there, looking near-frantic and barely awake. He was in uniform, yes, but she could tell that he dressed on the way, and his hair wasn’t as slicked down as it was during the day cycle.

“Admiral,” She said, trying to will away the tremor in her voice, “I need you to dispose of this. Quietly.”

He nodded, taking the cage that she handed him and glancing inside. He could tell what it was, she knew that. He’d be an idiot not too, with a Force Sensitive running the galaxy. 

“Of course, Empress.”

And then, with one searching look at her face, her eyes, he nodded again and turned on his heel, taking away the Ysalamir. The Force slipped back in slowly, her lightsaber returned to her hand when she called for it, and she felt relief.

“Ma’am,” One of the troopers said, and she looked over to where he had pulled up the man’s sleeve. The sith brand was there, dark and old on his skin. She knew what it meant. 

Sidious was done waiting for her to come home. 

Her hands shook, but her voice somehow stayed steady as she told the Stormtroopers to dispose of the body. Once they began, she slipped back into her room, shutting the door behind her, and letting her eyes fall shut.

The Force hummed around her, comforting, and then it changed in the way that only  _ he  _ made it change. 

Then he was there in front of her, eyes filled with panic and fear, in rumpled bedclothes and sleep-tousled hair.

Where Hux’s panic had been about the fact that an intruder had made it so far into the ship and nearly killed the Empress, something that could cost him his job or even his life, Ben’s panic was different. 

Softer. More of something she couldn't find the name for. 

“What happened?” He asked, voice so filled with concern that she felt the near-uncontrollable urge to reach out and touch him, hold him. She resisted though, trying to shake off the thought as he continued speaking. “I was leaving the meeting with my mother and couldn't feel you anymore.”

“He sent someone for me, someone who came prepared with a Ysalamir.”

His jaw clenched and his hands twitched at his sides. He wanted to touch her, hold her, just as she wanted to for him. Emboldened by the realization, she took a step forward, towards him, letting the warmth radiating off him from whatever planet he was on soothe her. He was like a furnace, like a fire, bright and warm and comforting. 

“The last time I was on Exegol, shortly after my grandmaster informed me of what my grandfather has planned for me, I did something to ensure that the Final Order couldn't leave the planet until it was time for us to fight them. I couldn't risk them getting out before Starkiller was finished, so I created a lock in the force in the atmosphere. Tricky, yes, but with the help of my grandmaster and the knowledge of others who I called on for help, it was manageable.”

“Smart.” He commented, and her cheeks flushed bright red. 

“Sidious sent the Sith agent to kidnap me and bring me back to Exegol so that my Force signature would unlock the fleet and allow them to rise as the power of the Sith is channeled into its new vessel. That’s why we need the fleets, First Order  _ and  _ Resistance. If there’s any chance of stopping the planet killers we need everyone we can get. There’s no time to build another Starkiller, he won't stop sending people and eventually my luck will run out.” 

He nodded, “The Masters agreed to the new terms. All that needs to be done now is the return of our people.”

“I’ll speak to Hux about it in the morning.”

The stressed tension left her shoulders, exhaustion from both the stress and the abrupt awakening in the middle of the night settling down in its place. She left his warmth, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed, and they stayed like that for a long moment of silence before he spoke again.

“What do you need?”

She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow, “What?”

“Yesterday, when we were talking about Hux, you said that everyone needs something. What do you need?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“You know why. Don’t be afraid, I feel it too.”

She looked into his eyes then, eyes that caught the sun on that distant and melted into amber and gold, and saw the truth there. The sincerity. The  _ care. _

“To not be alone.” Rey said, surprising herself, “That’s what I need.”

Something bled over the connection; a boy, angry and alone, who had dealt with the voice in his head for so long, whose peers feared him, who felt that there was no one in the world who truly understood what he was going through. 

“You’re not alone.” He said, and she knew it to be true.

The look in his eyes that she knew was mirrored in her own consumed her, and her hand lifted from her lap, and reached out to him. 

“Neither are you.”

He reached out to meet her in the middle, their souls travelling millions of miles to find each other on the bridge the force had so carefully woven for them. Unlike anything that she’d ever seen, ever even known of.

Their hands met, and when she looked up and met his eyes once more, she realized that the word for what was between them was love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was kinda worried I wouldn’t make the deadline but it’s still Tuesday!!! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
> 
> Next chapter, our idiots in love meet once again, but this time in person. 
> 
> I’ll do my best to get the next chapter up on schedule. Your comments really help inspire me to finish writing and editing each one, thank you for your continued support ❤️


	8. Chapter 8

“Something’s wrong.”

Rey raised an eyebrow at Hux from where she sat at the head of the table, waiting for him to join her for lunch.

“Why do you say that, Admiral?”

He didn’t sit down, only moving to stand at the side of the table, closer to her, “You’re wearing your Empress robes, not your dinner clothes, and you've called for a bottle of Alderrian wine. You’ve come here for war, war with me.”

There’s nothing really she can say,  _ he’s right,  _ so instead she sighs and waves a hand at his empty chair.

“Sit with me, Tage.”

He did, and she poured wine into his glass, hooking a foot around the leg of his chair to pull him closer with a little help from the Force. 

“You are not my enemy,” She said, picking up the wineglass and pressing it into one of his hands, “You are anything but my enemy.”

Rey leaned back into her chair, taking a sip from her own drink, and looked away from him; staring into the starry expanse outside the window. There was a reason she chose this room, Snoke’s former throne room, for her dining room and not just for the fact that his death in this room had given way for her resurrection, but for its floor-to-ceiling windows that went almost completely around the circular room. 

“Things are changing, Admiral. Things we may not agree on but that I believe are necessary for the success of our empire.”

He said nothing, and she met his eyes once more.

“Tomorrow, we will be releasing the rebels that we’ve held across the fleet back to their own people. I’ve brokered an alliance with the leader of the rebellion that will ensure that we are not challenged by them anymore. Something is coming, Admiral, something that will require every one of us to do our part to ensure our empire survives, and this is a part of that. I need to know that I’ll have your loyalty, your trust.” 

When she brushed over his mind, she sensed resolve.

“You’ll have it.” He made a sour face, “Even if I despise the idea of working with the rebels.”

She laughed, softly, “I knew I could count on you, Tage.”

They ate in thoughtful silence after that, and his thoughts were an open book to her. He was hesitant about releasing the rebels, even more so the idea of working with them directly, but he was willing to follow her lead.

She wondered for a moment where they would be if Snoke had not died, if she hadn’t struck him down what seems like an eternity ago but also a single day.

He’d be gaunt, pale, unhappy again. Unsteady.  _ Rabid cur _ . Slowly losing his grip on his army and his health beneath Snoke’s humiliations and punishments. 

She had a vision then, fleeting, of some other life, of General Pryde shooting him in the face without a thought. As if he was putting down some feral dog. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, willed away the images, and was suddenly thankful that Pryde was dead. Within seconds of silent meditation, her focus was regained, and she continued on her musings.

Rey, well, she was sure she’d be dead by now. A catalyst, a vessel, a source of energy to bring Darth Sidious and the rest of the Sith back to their former glory. The fleet rising to wipe out all resistant life with a flick of a switch. 

If she wasnt dead, she’d be a prisoner in her own mind, locked away while her body played the puppet for the Sith. 

“I’ll be leaving soon,” Rey said, suddenly, and it startled them both, “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

She hadn’t been away from the Supremacy for more than three days in  _ years _ , since Snoke sent her to find the crystal for her lightsaber. It felt foreign, nerve-wracking, and she didn’t much like the idea of leaving home despite the necessity of it.

“I’ll have a commlink on the ship for my duties, but you'll be completely in charge of the campaign in the Outer Rim. I have complete faith in your ability to lead our most important mission so far.”

“Thank you, Empress.”

She nodded, rising from her chair, walking to where he sat. She sipped from his wine, lipstick stains left behind on the glass, and then she looked him in the eye. She didn’t brush over his mind, no, now was not the time for that. Instead she spoke in a tone that was steady but so filled with the darkness of her hate that it made him shiver, eyes widening.

“I ask one thing other than success from you in this campaign.” Her eyes glittered with something terrifying, murderous, “That every slaver in the Rim dies slowly, in whatever way you see fit.”

. . .

In the early hours of the morning, in a field on Yavin 4, the Resistance picked up their forty-seven captured members, and brought them home to Ahch-To that afternoon.

There was a celebration upon their arrival, a short, underwhelming thing for some but a party nonetheless.There was an abundance of food and drink, as well as even more fussing from family members and medical staff alike, despite assurances that they weren’t harmed. Toasts were made to good health and the efforts in the war and Leia gave some speech that Ben didn’t quite catch but that seemed to inspire the group.

He slipped away from the party almost immediately after the speech had ended, walking back to the group of tents that had been set up for the Jedi knights around the huts that they’d put the younglings in. The Masters had taken up residence in the Falcon, which currently served as, to what he was sure was his father’s annoyance, a mobile command base.

The quiet of the tents was soothing, helping slightly with the anxiety creeping up in his stomach as he fell into the movements of rolling his clothing and packing it away in the satchel he chose to bring with him. He was leaving that afternoon for Crait, and everything about the trip weighed heavy on his mind. 

He knew she wasn’t lying, he could sense it across the bond, but he feared the rest of the First Order. If even one of her admirals managed to gain the support of the troops, they could rebel against her and sacrifice her to Exegol for Palpatine’s power while they only had each other for protection on the planet they had agreed on, Crait.

Ben almost wished that she would appear then, to keep him company as he packed. Maybe her presence would distract him from his thoughts, not only the ones of worry for her, but also the ones involving the two Masters he is bound to through blood. 

Luke had been eerily silent since the meeting with Ahsoka, studying Ben intently from afar as if his nephew couldn't see him there. His mother was different, almost  _ fussy  _ over him, attentive in a way she hadn’t been since before he went to train with Luke years ago.

_ “I wish you had told me,”  _ She’d murmured when she saw him in the Temple, and he hadn’t been able to find the words she wanted to hear before she left him with a soft touch to his cheek.

The air shifted behind him and he was actually  _ excited  _ for a moment, thinking that it was her, that he’d been successful yet again in opening the bond on his own, only to realize that he couldn’t sense her presence. 

But he  _ could _ sense his father. 

The wind no longer blew in the cramped space from off the sea, his father’s form now leaning against one of the supports around the doorway of the tent. Ben continued to pack, and after a time he heard Han’s boots leave the stone and loose gravel outside, footsteps muffled on the stretch of roughly woven carpet on the ground beneath each tent. 

“I’m not going to ask if you're sure about this. You wouldn't be going if you weren't.”

Ben snorted, “Thought I was a little too much like you on making impulsive decisions.”

“Well, yeah, you are. But we’re always sure the second we make them, and if we have to we make a plan on the fly.”

Ben  _ hmmed _ at that and Han suddenly appeared at his side, plopping down on the bed and thankfully not crushing anything.

“Those plans haven’t failed us yet.”

“Luck runs out eventually.” 

“ _ Luck _ didn't lead this to happen,” Han said, raising an eyebrow at his son, “We both know that. We’ll make it out of this, always do. Just promise me one thing, kid.”

“What?”

Later, he’d regret not looking in Han’s eyes before he answered. If he had he would have caught the sparkle of mischief there.

“Don’t make me a grandfather, I’m far too young for that.”

“Oh get out.” 

Ben swatted at his father’s leg and the older man chuckled, standing up and patting Ben’s cheek before he moved towards the door.

“I love you, kid.”

“I know,” Ben shook his head, trying to banish the embarrassed blush from his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “I love you too.”

He doesn’t pack much, just his clothes and personal items. She’d told him that she would bring supplies for both of them and he was secretly grateful for that. He suspected his mother was too, not that she’d voiced it, feeding a group as big as the Resistance had become was a struggle on its own. 

Leia had hugged him tight before he left, not saying anything, and for that he was thankful.

The flight to Crait had been uneventful except for a brief connection where he saw her in her own ship, carrying a crate of supplies down the ramp, before she blinked out of sight once more. 

With the planet beneath him, it felt like the forest. Something was down there, something powerful, and he knew it was her. When he landed, it felt stronger, like a thread pulling him by the hand to her.

And when the door opened and he saw her standing at the entrance of the base, he finally found the word for what he had felt since he’d seen her in that golden dress.

Love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi....sorry this took forever. Oops. Fingers crossed I can get back on schedule and get this done before I start working again. Upped the chapter count because I’m chopping the next couple chapters in half so they’ll be easier to write and hopefully read. I hope y’all are doing okay with everything going on, thank you again for all the lovely comments and support ❤️
> 
> Almost done with the new chapter of curse (I say for the 17th time 😐) and nowhere should hopefully be sometime soon. Been struggling with plotting that one, kinda pantsed it until this point


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